


Cotton Candy Clambering

by OwlEspresso



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Modern AU, She switches between them, Sugar Daddy, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), light degrading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29542725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlEspresso/pseuds/OwlEspresso
Summary: "Is there aught but cotton candy between those years of yours?" he huffs, pawing at her pink strands."There could be more," she replies, nimble fingers unfastening the clasp of his belt. A fervent heat simmered behind those mismatched irises, a coquettish smile brimming on her lips. "If you would just let me—"
Relationships: Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 18





	Cotton Candy Clambering

**Author's Note:**

> Cups hands around mouth
> 
> SHE'S TALKING ABOUT CUM. IN THE SUMMARY.

“Can I call you daddy?” she asks, resting her chin atop his left knee. Her hands gently rest on the sides of his calves. Skilled fingers massage the muscle she finds there, idly admiring him with both eyes and digits. Her usual impishness is nowhere to be seen, expression mild and pliant as she regards him.

Her tail idly thumps on the carpet behind her. She wonders, briefly, if it’s disgust or only incredulousness she sees in his expression. His eyes have gone wide, his lips slightly parted as he takes in her bold inquiry. 

She keeps a straight face whilst her stomach squirms, keeps the torrent of anxious thoughts at bay by simply focusing her attention on the golden hue of his gaze—how his irises flicker like candlelight. 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised, anymore,” he languishes with a small sigh, leaning against the back of the leather couch. The newspaper he had been combing through so sluggishly is dropped pointedly to the side of him. She has his attention now, she realizes with a rush of giddiness.

At the same time, one of his large hands reached for her head, long fingers combing through cotton candy locks. The space between his thumb and index finger squeezed one of her fluffy ears, earning him a small, muffled squeak. He roughly uses it to manhandle her, tilting her head to the side as he idly inspects her. The heat in his gaze is well-hidden, but she’s known him for too long to not see it. 

“Daddy? Truly? Is that what titilates you?” He attempts to sound incredulous, but she hears the consideration in his voice. The way he feels out the sound of it with darkened lips. Her pupils dilate. She wants to kiss him.

“Mhm,” she hums. The carpet slides against her bare legs as she shifts forward, soft cunt teased by the texture through her thin panties. Her face presses to the crux of his thighs, nuzzling at the bulge quickly forming there. Her bare breasts press against the chilled leather of the couch, goosebumps springing up along her arms.

His grip on her ear tightens—pulls, prompting her to gasp.

“Hush, pet,” he reprimands, “Are you so blind in your desire for cock that you would not properly hear my answer? A pity, after you asked so earnestly.” He roughly paws at her hair, curling tight into the strands and lifting her head, forcing her to look up at him. His lips curl into a sly smile, eyelids lowered. It’s a kind of languid amusement that makes her feel so much smaller, so much simpler. 

Heat lands flush in between her legs, cunt throbbing. Her lips part, and he does not disguise the way in which he watches her roll her tongue over them, wetting her palette for what is to undoubtedly come. 

“Not a single thought bouncing between those years of yours, hm?” he coos, pets her affectionately. She doesn’t know why it makes her hips squirm, an extra gush of slick sticky against her panties. But at this point, it’s hard to care. 

Milkweed’s voice pitches into a wordless whine as she pushes her head against his wide palm. The strands of her hair fray wildly as he adjusts his grip.

His hand slides down to her face, thumb pressing up against her bottom lip. Her mouth opens for him automatically, allowing the digit entry. Her tongue curls over it. A series of loud, wet noises fills the room as she sucks on him through his glove, paying no mind to the strange texture. 

“Well. At the very least, should all your other talents leave you, you’ll at least have your mouth to work with,” he idly remarks. His expression belies his attraction, apples of his cheeks flushed as he lounges back. “Come,” he beckons, gesturing to his tented crotch. Her mouth waters at the implication.

“Show Daddy what that impudent mouth is worth.”


End file.
